In common with many of my generation, by the late 80s, when I was in my late 20s, although I carried my late 60s early 70s acid rock love forward, I also embraced some of what became known as ‘Hair Bands.’ While some were identikit and devoid of originality, in amongst it all, there was some great music that was really fresh. I had been an early adopter of Yngwie Malmsteen when he was still in Steeler and especially Alcatrazz. Widdly widdly was my thing. Blasting it out in the car with the windows down was joyful. And there was no shortage of it. If you’re not so familiar with the genre, or have forgotten about this period, can I recommend a few bands? If you want widdly widdly, look no further than Racer X, with Paul Gilbert. White Lion did some great stuff. Vito Bratta, the guitarist, is something of a lost genius. Check out the track Lights And Thunder. RATT were a Van Halen-style band, Badlands were superb, rooted in a more bluesy sound. Of course, there were still people like Gary Moore knocking out great records too, as well as all the big mainstream bands who are still household names.
We were back living in the northeast at this time after a hippy sojourn living remotely in the north of Scotland for three years. The scene had shifted from the early days and some landmarks like Handysides Arcade, so beloved in 1979, was criminally torn down and all its history with it, to build a shopping facility that is now hated and largely disregarded. Bloody planners.
But some landmark pubs remained, though they knocked the Haymarket down, the vandals. The City Tavern remained but now had a massive drop down screen for a video jukebox. It was where I first saw the ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ video. And the Percy upstairs was still keeping the faith. So it was that we went to such establishments to get our rock buzz on. In common with many, I had cut my long hair by about 50% and now dressed in wide shouldered garish yellow jackets, tight black plether pants and long pointy boots. As you’ll know if you’ve ever worn plastic leather trousers, they do make you very hot. It’s like wearing a bin bag and sweat dripped down my legs onto the boots. Sexy.
Now add in the fact it was summer in 1988, super hot and in rammed pubs and the temperature in those pants was volcanic. My legs felt like they were on fire. My body temperature was sky high and there was no relief. Air conditioning not being a thing in UK at the time. So it was, that I got so hot that I momentarily passed out, right outside the Percy Arms. Sitting on the pavement, most people probably thought I was drunk. But no, I had heat stroke from being 'too rock n roll'.
This phase didn’t last long and by the 90’s I’d reverted to type as a scruffy hippy and given up my career as a glam metal superstar. Looking back now, it all seems embarrassing and stupid, but at the time, it was anything but. Thank God there were no phones to capture my disgrace. Imagine the indiscretions of our youth being forever recorded on camera! Not for the easily offended.
I'm just too rock n roll...
